I hate that everything is dumbed down.

Newspapers are written at a children’s level.

Big words aren’t used for fear that somebody might actually (shock, horror!) need to utilise a dictionary. The English language is dying, a slow, horrible, excruciating death by steady bastardisation. The loss of vocabulary has indirectly contributed to the loss of wit and satire.

Many years ago someone told me that they only liked modern poetry. They didn’t get the classics. I said nothing at first because it took all of my concentration not to strangle her. Once I had regained something similar to composure I suggested that unless you have an understanding of the classics you will never truly appreciate the modern because you are unable to appreciate its influences, background and history. I firmly believe that.

Now having a daughter I am keenly aware of many girls and young women who seem to be assuming an affectation of unintelligence. On purpose.

Well. I’ll definitely be fighting that tendency. Tooth and nail. And it doesn’t start at some far off point in the future – it’s now. I don’t stop using my vocabulary because I’m talking to an 18 month old.

One of the best gifts I can give her is a love of language, a respect for books (yes, that does mean never dog-earring the pages), and the willingness to aim high and risk the fall rather than the guaranteed success in mediocrity.